Nano excerpt
One of the niftier parts about my 1933 AU Nano is getting to cross over the Stargates at will. Characters who don't know each other have sudden connections. Cadman was a student in one of Sarah Gardner's classes. Janet Frasier is working alongside Carson Beckett in some South American mission. And there was this diner... the ironic part is I think I've seen barely a half an episode with Oma, so I'm not sure how close I've gotten to the SG-1 side of things. And the book? It's the McGuffin that explains everything. So of course I had to have a thief to get it back, right? I don't know why I felt like sharing this. I just felt amused at the connections I kept making. (Obviously it's Nano, so it's in a very rough state. And I know Atlantis better than SG-1, so it's really rough.)
The Diner
Sol's Diner was the only all night diner in town. The owner was a genial fellow named Saul. He named the diner after his wife, hoping it would make up for the long hours away from his family.
His diner had the usual mixture of regulars and other customers. Saul knew most of them by sight. The occasional truck driver came through, as did the farmers. He could tell them by the weariness in their faces. He usually spared them a cup of coffee or some water. He was grateful to have a roof over his head. He remembered the days when he didn't. He didn't give any big handouts, though, but they appreciated the little things.
Saul didn't usually see that many students from the Langford agricultural college, unless it was final exam time. Then the students was there at all hours, asking for as much black coffee as he could bring them. Most of them were nice enough kids. He just wondered why they bothered with school right now. Hard work got him ahead in life. He guessed most of this kids could afford to go to school, rather than look for work.
The teachers didn't usually come into his diner either, except that one lady. Saul didn't know her name, but she showed up one late evening with a craving for a cheese omelet. She'd been coming ever since. When Saul asked her why she didn't choose a classier restaurant, she replied that his place reminded of a diner she used to work at. Saul couldn't imagine a lady like her slinging hash. But once he heard her give a order to his waitress in a matter of fact down home accent that suggested she might have once.
But Saul certainly would have remembered seeing the woman she was sitting with tonight. Tall with black hair, her guest spoke with a funny accent, not one he'd heard in these parts. But she had a bubbly warm personality and deft hand. He would have to keep his eyes on the tips tonight.
Wrinkling her nose at the decor, Vala Mal Doran asked. "Why did you pick this place?"
"Sentimental reasons," Dr. Oma Desala smiled. "Did you bring the book?"
"Of course," Vala replied, pulling the old volume out of a shoulder bag. "I don't know why you went to so much trouble over a ratty old book. Or why I had to come to this godforsaken corner of America to give it to you. I could have found you in Egypt."
"Not this season, you won't," Oma accepted the book. "I haven't been able to get a permit to excavate."
"When did that ever stop you?" Vala snorted. "You were never one to stay within the rules before."
Oma flipped through the pages, "True enough, but I think I should stay a little under the radar for awhile. It'll attract less attention." She added. "Not that you've ever known how to blend into a crowd."
"What is so important about that book anyway?" Vala asked. Oma had gone to a lot of trouble to hire her for this job. Now she was curious why she had risked life and limb over a book. It didn't look like it was worth anything. "Why couldn't I have stolen it from him here?"
"You ask a great deal of questions, Mal Doran," Oma smiled. "A pity you've never stopped the consider the answers." She continued. "This book contains some rather sensitive information. I could not allow it to fall into the wrong hands again. If you had waited until they arrived here, it might have been much harder to prove that the book was a fraud." When she reached a certain page, she frowned. "We're still not sure which of us created this little gem. We lost track of it at the end of the last century when it was purchased by a book dealer in Dresden. Somehow it made its way into the Von Aushveld collection where it was stumbled upon by the late Kate Heightmeyer. The Baroness understood its importance." Closing the book, she asked. "Did anyone see you?"
"Aren't you forgetting who you're dealing with?" Vala leaned forward with a smirk. "I don't get caught."
"No, you just get greedy," Oma said. "I remember how many times you've doublecrossed me. Someday you'll regret it."
"Is this where you lecture me on the wickedness of my ways?" Vala asked.
Oma sighed, "That would be a waste of my time. However, I will offer some advice." She dropped a bill and some coins on the table. "Don't stiff the waitresses here. And if I even hear about you stealing her tip, you'll be scraping pans for eternity."
The Diner
Sol's Diner was the only all night diner in town. The owner was a genial fellow named Saul. He named the diner after his wife, hoping it would make up for the long hours away from his family.
His diner had the usual mixture of regulars and other customers. Saul knew most of them by sight. The occasional truck driver came through, as did the farmers. He could tell them by the weariness in their faces. He usually spared them a cup of coffee or some water. He was grateful to have a roof over his head. He remembered the days when he didn't. He didn't give any big handouts, though, but they appreciated the little things.
Saul didn't usually see that many students from the Langford agricultural college, unless it was final exam time. Then the students was there at all hours, asking for as much black coffee as he could bring them. Most of them were nice enough kids. He just wondered why they bothered with school right now. Hard work got him ahead in life. He guessed most of this kids could afford to go to school, rather than look for work.
The teachers didn't usually come into his diner either, except that one lady. Saul didn't know her name, but she showed up one late evening with a craving for a cheese omelet. She'd been coming ever since. When Saul asked her why she didn't choose a classier restaurant, she replied that his place reminded of a diner she used to work at. Saul couldn't imagine a lady like her slinging hash. But once he heard her give a order to his waitress in a matter of fact down home accent that suggested she might have once.
But Saul certainly would have remembered seeing the woman she was sitting with tonight. Tall with black hair, her guest spoke with a funny accent, not one he'd heard in these parts. But she had a bubbly warm personality and deft hand. He would have to keep his eyes on the tips tonight.
Wrinkling her nose at the decor, Vala Mal Doran asked. "Why did you pick this place?"
"Sentimental reasons," Dr. Oma Desala smiled. "Did you bring the book?"
"Of course," Vala replied, pulling the old volume out of a shoulder bag. "I don't know why you went to so much trouble over a ratty old book. Or why I had to come to this godforsaken corner of America to give it to you. I could have found you in Egypt."
"Not this season, you won't," Oma accepted the book. "I haven't been able to get a permit to excavate."
"When did that ever stop you?" Vala snorted. "You were never one to stay within the rules before."
Oma flipped through the pages, "True enough, but I think I should stay a little under the radar for awhile. It'll attract less attention." She added. "Not that you've ever known how to blend into a crowd."
"What is so important about that book anyway?" Vala asked. Oma had gone to a lot of trouble to hire her for this job. Now she was curious why she had risked life and limb over a book. It didn't look like it was worth anything. "Why couldn't I have stolen it from him here?"
"You ask a great deal of questions, Mal Doran," Oma smiled. "A pity you've never stopped the consider the answers." She continued. "This book contains some rather sensitive information. I could not allow it to fall into the wrong hands again. If you had waited until they arrived here, it might have been much harder to prove that the book was a fraud." When she reached a certain page, she frowned. "We're still not sure which of us created this little gem. We lost track of it at the end of the last century when it was purchased by a book dealer in Dresden. Somehow it made its way into the Von Aushveld collection where it was stumbled upon by the late Kate Heightmeyer. The Baroness understood its importance." Closing the book, she asked. "Did anyone see you?"
"Aren't you forgetting who you're dealing with?" Vala leaned forward with a smirk. "I don't get caught."
"No, you just get greedy," Oma said. "I remember how many times you've doublecrossed me. Someday you'll regret it."
"Is this where you lecture me on the wickedness of my ways?" Vala asked.
Oma sighed, "That would be a waste of my time. However, I will offer some advice." She dropped a bill and some coins on the table. "Don't stiff the waitresses here. And if I even hear about you stealing her tip, you'll be scraping pans for eternity."